Boys & Girls
by nobleanchor
Summary: Childhood best friends Gwen and Arthur reunite 15 years later to find that they've changed a bit.
1. Chapter 1

She couldn't _believe_ how much he'd changed.

Little, stringy, petulant Arthur, who'd smashed her sandcastles when he grew impatient and pulled her ponytail when he sensed he was losing an argument.

Most of the time they'd been the best of mates, their sides pressed against one another as they laid on their stomachs on the sun-bleached dock of his family's lake, dangling small nets over the edge, intent on catching the biggest insect they could find.

She remembered falling asleep against him, her head resting on his shoulder and his against her hair, skin warmed through from the incandescent summer sun.

No, she could barely believe this was the boy she had known. The man before her had such a captivating presence, such masculine vigor. He was the sort of fully formed male figure that might have made Michelangelo weep.

She was mesmerized by how the muscles in his back and shoulders shifted as he twisted around to catch the football against his knee; how the sun caught his hair in a glowing halo; how his smile brought a lightness to his bottomless blue eyes. She watched them twinkle as he laughed at something one of his mates said, and she admired the elegance of his gait, his neck, his hands.

How had he become _this_ from the boy she'd known?

She wondered if she'd seem as different to him.

Only one way to find out, she supposed.

"Arthur?" She called out before she lost her nerve. The men were packing up their things and making to leave.

She saw his head jerk around, looking for the source of her voice. His eyes fell on her face and his smile faltered briefly. She could tell that he didn't immediately recognize her. He turned and said something to his friend, and the group of guys went on without him.

Arthur approached her slowly, and she could tell he was still trying to place her in his mind.

When he was close enough, she decided to help him out.

"It's me, Gwen." She didn't know why she suddenly felt so shy.

If she hadn't been so inexplicably nervous, she might have laughed at how his eyes widened and he seemed physically taken aback by this revelation.

"_Guinevere? _Is it _really _you?_" _His eyes poured over her, taking in her casual cut off jean short shorts and bikini top, her smooth, slightly frizzy curls pulled into a loose braid over her shoulder, trying to reconcile the woman she'd become with the little girl he used to play with.

She smiled and asked "how have you been?" for lack of a better idea of how to start a conversation with someone she hadn't seen or spoken to in 15 years.

Apparently fully convinced, he beamed at her and stepped forward to give her a massive hug. Pulling back he looked her over once again. "I can't believe it. What are you doing here? It's been so long…"

She looked down at her sandy feet shyly. "I know. I'm here on holiday, but I'm not sure how long I'll be staying."

Arthur shook his head, unable to suppress the grin on his face. "We've got some catching up to do."

She agreed.

* * *

"I dare you," he challenged her, looking down over the railing on the pier at the 15 foot drop into the water.

She looked at him, not in the least bit surprised. "Well, well, I see you haven't changed much, have you?" He was always trying to trick her into doing something dangerous.

"And you're still too afraid, aren't you?"

She scowled at him. "Am not. But it's a bit rough, don't you think?"

He looked at the slightly choppy waves and shrugged. "I've been in worse."

"Oh, now I'm _quite_ impressed. So this is nothing to you?"

"Yeah, I'd do it," he proclaimed, showing off a little.

"Prove it." She smiled slyly, knowing she had him trapped. If there was still a shred of the young Arthur she knew all those years ago, she knew he would be too proud to refuse.

"Alright then." He agreed, promptly pulling off his sandals and setting them on the ground beside her. Hefting himself up onto the wide wooden railing, he dangled his feet over the side.

She'd be lying if she said she wasn't a little nervous for him, and she instinctively grabbed his forearm lest he slip right over the edge before he intended to.

"Hey," he chuckled, slowly pulling his arm out of her grasp. "It's no big deal. Watch, and learn."

She obediently stood back, observing anxiously as he drew himself up to stand on the railing which seemed somehow narrower to her now. If she weren't so nervous about something going horribly wrong, she might have been admiring the spectacular new view she had now been afforded of her old mate's incredible physique as he prepared to jump.

"Ready?" he asked her, sensing her anxiety.

She gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile. He turned his head to look down briefly, then over his shoulder with a quick wink before he sprung off of the railing in a well-practiced dive.

She watched as he disappeared into the water below, and waited to see his golden head reappear.

And waited.

When 15 seconds had passed, she began to panic. Her eyes searched the water below frantically for any sign of him.

Suddenly, she saw his head break above the water, a little ways from where she had been searching.

He pushed the wet hair out of his eyes and looked up at her with a strange expression on his face.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Uhm…I may have lost something."

She gave him an impatient look that said, _well?_

She followed his gaze toward the shoreline where she saw a pair of crumpled shorts washed up in the sand, shallow waves lapping against the dark red fabric.

She doubled over in a fit of giggles. "You idiot!"

He had the humility to look a bit embarrassed, and she wondered how long she dared to drag this out.

In the end, she took pity on him treading there in the cold water, and made her way around the base of the pier to the shore to collect his trunks.

Wading in just above her knees, she called to him, "You're going to have to come a bit closer!"

Reluctantly, he advanced a few feet closer to her, but he was still out of reach. The water was becoming too shallow, and he was already bared to his belly button.

"This is as far as I'm coming," he insisted.

She sighed, residual giggles bubbling up as she contemplated the situation. "You know," she said, her breath catching a bit as she resigned herself to wading further into the frigid water and soaking her shorts, "I _have_ seen you naked. We used to take baths together."

His eyebrows shot up, and he gave her a disbelieving expression. "I think…this is a little different, _Guinevere."_

She couldn't stop herself from laughing at him just then, and he made an exasperated face in response for her entertainment.

She stopped when the water reached her belly button. "Come here," she demanded.

Arthur was out of moves. She had his shorts, after all. It wasn't like he could go anywhere without them. He swished forward toward her until they were only a foot or so apart, stooping a little to compensate for the shallower water.

He reached out to retrieve the shorts from her hand, but before he could she had snatched them back behind her with a mischievous look in her eyes.

Without hesitating, he lunged forward, snaking his arms around her back and grasping at her hands, but he was unable to free the shorts from her wicked grip.

He suddenly realized he had only succeeded in bringing her closer against him, and he saw the realization dawn on her face a second later.

They both stilled, frozen in their precarious position.

She looked up at his face slowly, at the droplets dripping from his disheveled hair, down his chest, his nipples pebbled from the cold.

Turning her face up to his, she found she was only inches from his lips, and she saw that his eyes were intent on her lips.

"_Guinevere_," he said softly, not a little breathlessly.

She found this closeness extremely preoccupying, and she was afraid what she might do if she looked into his bold sapphire eyes for too long. She bit her lip, smiling slightly as she turned her head away.

Just then, she felt his hands loosen on hers behind her back, and would have mourned the absence but she felt them move to grab her waist in his strong grip instead, pulling her against him.

She felt his warm breath ghost across her face just before his lips covered hers, and she brought her own hands from behind her back to throw around his neck, still gripping his shorts.

She was lost in the sensuousness of his kiss, lips moving ardently against hers; the strong but soft muscle of his tongue massaging hers, exploring her mouth, taking her in.

Her body was plastered to his, one of his hands finding its way just to the top of her rear to pull her more firmly against him. Suddenly she was aware that she could feel _everything._

Her mind was racing, not unlike her heart, trying to register all of the sensations of his hard, muscular body against hers. This was _Arthur_, after all. Arthur, the boy she had basked in the sun with, slung mud at, hid in the cupboards with when her mum got cross.

But this Arthur was all raw, masculine strength and beauty. She suddenly felt urges to do things with him, _to him_, she'd never dreamed she'd had the guts to do. Sliding her hands down his lower back, feeling the muscle and definition, she couldn't help herself from grabbing ahold of his backside, so muscular and bare and—

"Oh my god" she mumbled against his mouth in between kisses. "What are we doing?"

"Mmmm," came Arthurs response, "I don't care." He continued his frenzied worship of her mouth with his lips, and when she tried to tear her lips away from his, he changed focus to her neck instead, eventually settling where her neck met her shoulders.

"Ohhhh, god," Gwen let out an involuntary moan as he found _just_ the spot that always set her nerves afire. His hands slid up and down her sides, caressing. She was afraid to acknowledge the ever-hardening heat she felt against her stomach.

"Arthur," she said, little more than a moan at first.

"_Arthur._" She repeated, trying to bring herself to her senses as much as him.

Arthur sighed deeply against her neck and dragged his head up to meet her gaze.

Her eyelids fluttered open just as reluctantly, her hands sliding back up over his back, his chest.

She could tell he was waiting for her to say something.

_What had she been about to say, anyway? That this was crazy? That they were in public? That they should spend more time getting to know each other again? _

Somehow, she didn't care about any of these things. She wasn't sure why she had felt the to need to interrupt what was quickly becoming one of the most exciting encounters of her life.

"We should…" she started to say, but she could see him bracing himself for disappointment, his hands still clutching at her waist.

"We should do this somewhere else," she finished, a wide grin spreading over her features. A matching grin broke out on his face a moment later.

"Well then…" he said flirtatiously, "can I please have my shorts back?"

She glanced down at the water where his arousal might have been on display had they not stumbled a few inches into deeper water during their frantic exploration of each other.

Glancing back up at him with a wicked grin, she said "only for a bit."

He widened his eyes at her in mock scandal as he took them from her hands and she turned away, affecting modesty with a small chuckle.

The water splashed up against her back as he pulled his shorts on quickly, and she started to wade away from him slowly, toward the shore.

"Oh no, you don't!" she heard his grumble from behind her, and suddenly she was locked tightly against him, her back against his chest, his arms holding firmly to her waist.

She felt his breath tickle at her neck as he bent his head to her ear. "I'm going to make you pay for this," he whispered darkly against her ear, and by the warm wetness of his tongue on her neck and the impossibly hard thickness of him pressing against her backside, she _believed_ him. She felt heat and moisture of a different kind seep between her legs, and she shivered in anticipation.

Removing his arms from around her, he took a moment to adjust himself before running ahead of her, splashing through the water toward the shore.

"You coming?" he called over his shoulder as he reached the solid shore at last.

"Definitely." She said to herself, surging forward to catch up.

She was going to enjoy reacquainting herself with her playmate.

* * *

**A/N:** My first story, so any feedback would be much appreciated!


	2. Chapter 2

"Come on, you used to kick my arse," he goaded her with a dangerously sexy smile.

"I was nine! I haven't played in _years_!" she protested.

They were making their way back to his flat, cutting through the park where they found an abandoned football.

"No," he shook his head, eyes still glinting with the threat of a dare. "I don't believe you. You fought so hard to be on that team, there's no way you'd give it up."

She looked down bashfully, smiling as she recalled her stubborn eight year old self.

He was right. Gwen had watched every practice session at the park across from her house through her bedroom window until it wasn't enough. Then she'd watched from the sidewalk, fingers laced through the chain-link fence, clutching tightly as she tracked the ball's movement longingly. Soon enough, she was kicking at the base of the fence, yearning to feel the connection of the ball against the powerful drive of her small foot.

Then the day came when the ball breached the fence. Her heart was flying as she seized her chance, grabbing the ball and sprinting onto the field with it, choosing a goal and making a run for it. The boys stood around, unsure of what to do, until someone called out "Well, someone stop her! She's going to make it!"

That was all a scrawny blonde boy needed to hear; he took off after her, bony elbows jutting into her side as he fought to possess the ball. He was surprised when she offered resistance, shoving her shoulder into his with just as much force. They surged forward, tumbling against one another, each fighting for control, until at last she had reached the goal and made a clear shot that the keeper couldn't block.

She threw her arms up in victory as a chorus of disappointed groans issued from the group of boys behind her.

And then there was silence. Her smile slipped slowly as she turned around to face the team, finding herself suddenly the subject of intense scrutiny.

No one said a word.

Except _him_. The boy she'd been battling shoved himself up from the ground, his practice uniform thoroughly muddied.

"That was really good," he conceded sincerely, approaching Gwen. She turned to face him, smiling.

"Thanks. Do you mind if I play?"

But before the boy could respond, the team's coach was approaching her.

"Excuse me, we're trying to have a practice here, young lady. Where is your mum?"

Gwen shook her head in confusion. What did it matter where her mum was?

"At home. Can't I play?"

"I'm afraid we're rather on a busy schedule. This is a boys only team. Now, I think you should go home."

"Come _on_, Mr. Morrison, can't she play with us? She's really good."

"I'm sorry, Arthur, it's against the rules. And we're running out of time." He turned to Gwen once more, "I'm sorry, sweetheart. Where do you live?"

Gwen pointed across the park, indicating her small white house across the street.

Mr. Morrison nodded, effectively dismissing her, then turned back to the others to direct them in another drill.

Gwen lingered there a moment, feeling more strongly than ever that the world was an unfair place. How could they not let her play? She knew she was better than most of the boys on the team.

"I'm sorry," her new acquaintance said softly, giving her one last sulking look before dragging his feet to rejoin his teammates.

"I cried for days," Gwen recalled, bringing herself back to the present.

Arthur frowned in sympathy, setting the ball down where he had been juggling it skillfully. "Maybe, but _we_ never saw that. You just showed up every day and interfered until Morrison demanded to speak to your parents."

She laughed at that. It was true, she remembered the look of surprise on her mother's face when she'd learned that her little Guinevere had been so troublesome. But after hearing about her daughter's determination, she'd given the coach an earful for not offering an option for girls and somehow talked him into accepting Gwen on the boys team.

"I _was_ the best, wasn't I?" she grinned proudly.

"Well, I'd say I was a very close second," he smirked back at her. Arthur's competitiveness had always pushed Gwen to be the best she could be. It was what brought them together; what eventually made them inseparable, much to their parents' dismay.

"Hmm...we'll see about that now, shall we, Pendragon?" She cocked an eyebrow as she pounced to steal the ball from where it rested beneath his foot.

* * *

He almost felt like a kid again, lying beneath the billowing slope of white sheets they'd draped over the furniture of his flat in a makeshift fort.

They used to do this. Cast blankets and sheets haphazardly about the room until they had erected some sort of loose tent-like structure that only the two of them could fit under. Something about the small space had been completely magical to him, as if the outside world ceased to exist. They could spend hours in their little world talking, laughing, pretending, eventually sleeping.

His eyes traced the pattern of dappled sunlight dancing over the makeshift ceiling, and he almost felt like a kid again, remembering how it used to be.

_Almost_, he thought significantly, turning his head to face the dusky-skinned goddess beside him. She was stretched out like a cat on her stomach, barely covered with a thin blanket tangled loosely around her lower body.

She was certainly different. The narrow, bony little girl's body he remembered had ripened magnificently in all the right places in womanhood. Her breasts sweet, and perfectly formed to fit in his grasp (with a little tantalizing extra to spill over, tempting his mouth). The plane of smooth skin that stretched over her waist. Her hips, much improved, he thought as he admired how they flared out slightly, creating an appetizing curve. Her legs, _dear lord_, she could keep those wrapped around him for days and he would never tire of the feel of them. Even her feet were slender and graceful, where once stubby little toes had kicked and prodded against his shins.

He met her twinkling gaze, half of her face tucked into an outstretched arm and covered by the cascade of her wild curls.

He could still see, if he looked hard enough, the girl that she was. But her face was softer, broader. He recognized the sweet spatter of freckles stretching across her cheekbones and the widened bridge of her nose, but new to him were the feminine eyebrows that arched elegantly over her beguiling, catlike eyes. He dared not contemplate her lips; they were much too diverting.

And yet she was still undeniably _Gwen_.

It was just that now she was so...so _lush_, he thought. So lovely. When had she become this..._creature_, capable of affecting him this way?

He knew he wasn't the first to notice, judging by the prowess she'd recently demonstrated (several times, at that), and he suddenly felt irrationally jealous of all the men that must have noticed her in his absence.

Turning his body toward her, he ghosted a hand up the smooth expanse of her back, tickling her spine, and finally twining his fingers into her hair at the nape of her neck. Her eyelids fell heavily at the sensation, and he smirked at how easy it was.

He wasn't a kid anymore. Kids didn't do _this_, he thought as he leaned his body over her, slithering down to place a soft, deliberate kiss against the small of her back, just above her rear. He heard her hum in approval as she tossed her head to the side, unconsciously lifting her backside slightly.

He grinned, pulling himself to slide up over her, covering her completely. It wasn't hard to do; she was a small thing.

"Arthur," she murmured hazily against her arm as she felt him nuzzling her neck, his hand caressing her sides.

"Hmm?" his nose drifted along the curve of her neck and down to her shoulder, where he pressed his mouth reverently against her warm skin.

"Be careful what you start," she warned teasingly.

He laughed softly into her shoulder. "I think it's a little late for that."

"We can't do this all day…" she argued halfheartedly, even as she squirmed beneath him, pressing herself into his groin.

"I don't see why not," he groaned. He was already painfully hard for her again.

Drawing back slightly, he gave her enough room to prop herself up.

He smoothed his hand appreciatively over her arse, admiring its generous curvature, his body suddenly tense with the anticipation of seeing them joined from this vantage point.

Her back arched into his touch, encouraging him, and he met her heavy-lidded, salacious gaze over her shoulder. She shifted her weight and he felt one of her hands reach back to grip his thigh, urging him closer. Needing no further prompting, he slid himself slowly inside her thoroughly wet folds, feeling the scorching heat of her consume him once more. They moaned together, both struggling in vain to keep their eyes open at the achingly delicious sensation of each other.

_God_, _she was perfect_. How could he have missed out on this for so long?

He tried to maintain a leisurely pace at first, but she was already demanding more, rocking herself back against him and moaning his name softly. He gritted his teeth, gripping her hips as he thrust more forcefully, rewarded by the raised pitch of her cries and the arousal that dampened her thighs.

_"Yes_," she practically sobbed against the pillow, and he pounded into her furiously, wanting to give her everything he had.

His hands slipped against her hips, slick with a light sheen of sweat; hers or his, he didn't know or care. He bent over, luxuriating in the delicate curve of her back against his chest, the delicious roundness of her backside meeting his hips as he drove relentlessly into her.

His ever-growing need was consuming him, and he bit lightly at her shoulder blade, tasting the salt of her skin, listening to her ragged panting beneath him and the persistent smack of skin on skin as they moved feverishly against each other.

He felt light headed, so close, and he needed her with him. Smoothing a hand around her hip and stomach, he reached down toward the pulsing heat between her legs, sliding his fingers through the small patch of coarse hair to touch her where she wanted it most.

She moaned loudly as his deft fingers found her clit, stroking, using her wetness to slide over her until he knew she was about to lose herself.

"_Fuck_, Arthur, yes!" she cried, quaking, and he thrust deep within her a few more times before he felt himself burst, his whole being seeming to drain inside of her as she writhed beneath him.

He groaned as they collapsed together on the makeshift bed, still partly joined. Ragged gasps gave way to deep, measured sighs as they fought to control their breathing. He was vaguely aware that he must be crushing her a bit, but Gwen didn't seem to mind.

Arthur drew back at last, withdrawing from her and falling onto his back in exhaustion. She rolled over to face him and he pulled her against him.

"Christ," was all Arthur could manage, his voice breaking slightly as he turned to kiss her sweaty forehead.

"I know," Gwen agreed breathlessly. "I can't believe we wasted so much time apart. Or wearing clothes, for that matter."

"That's what I've been thinking since the moment I recognized you."

They lapsed into silence, and he felt as comfortable as he had when they were children. That is, with a much more acute awareness of how incredible she really was.

"Do you remember," she said after a while, "when we almost got away with running away?"

He snorted, recalling the time they'd run into the woods by his house, thinking they'd made it far enough that no one could ever find them. "Yeah, but then you felt so bad that you weren't going to make it home for dinner that we had to go back."

She chuckled. "Well, and no one would have known if your grubby little hands hadn't been completely stained from blackberries! It was all over your lips, too! I can still see it." As if to emphasize her point, she reached up to press her mouth briefly to his, darting her tongue out to taste his lips.

Arthur smiled broadly at the image as she drew away, remembering above all the stony look on his father's face when he ascertained just how far Arthur had strayed that day.

"Ah, what a couple of shitheads we were."

Gwen's exhausted laughter puffed against his chest as she closed her eyes and burrowed closer to him.

He summoned just enough energy to lean forward and kiss her shoulder tenderly, stroking his hand over the smooth skin of her arm as she huddled against him. And by some long dormant instinct, his head fell softly against the top of hers, cushioned by her soft curls as he succumbed to the languid lull of the summer heat.

* * *

**A/N:** Ok, I've been sitting on this a while because _yikes,_ but there it is. I've got a little more of this story to tell, so you can count on an update if you're still up for it.


	3. Chapter 3

Eventually they realized they both needed to eat.

So they dressed slowly, helping each other with teasing looks even if they were both fully capable of dressing themselves.

"What do you feel like?" Arthur asked, suddenly wondering if her tastebuds had changed too. He had always been the picky eater, and she'd always given him shit for it, even as a kid.

She tilted her head from side to side, making a show of considering her options. "Something spicy, maybe?"

She was clearly fishing for a particular response from him, but he wouldn't give her the satisfaction.

"Indian it is," he suggested nonchalantly, brushing past her to grab his wallet and keys by the door.

"Oh, _no!_" she gasped in disbelief. "Arthur Pendragon eats _Indian_ food now?"

He rolled his eyes at her, holding the door open as she slipped past him and into the corridor.

"I _am_ a fully grown adult, if you hadn't noticed," he said dryly.

"I had, as a matter of fact," she replied, and he didn't miss how she darted her eyes to his crotch significantly. "But that doesn't mean that you've got the tastebuds of one. I have to admit, when I got up for water I half expected your cupboards to be filled with cartoon mac n cheese."

"Hey, it's good stuff, that!" He would defend it. Even if he had matured, there were some things that were timeless. Okay, maybe not _timeless_, but he wasn't giving up the cartoon noodles, not for anyone.

"Well then, I'm ready for you to impress me with your mature taste."

It wasn't the most authentic Indian place he'd been to, but then, most restaurants around here tended to serve chips as a courtesy anyway. To be fair, it was one of those point-to-the-picture-menu-and-pay-first places. _Good enough for drunk teenagers, good enough for the two of us,_ he supposed.

He made a point to order something exotic looking with at least two chili pepper symbols next to the name, and she made a point to stop talking as he took his first bites, still doubting that he would actually eat it. He kicked her playfully under the table, letting her know he didn't appreciate her skepticism.

They both agreed that the food was absolute rubbish, but the chips were good. She moved to his side of the table and they squeezed together, crowding over the small basket and laughing hysterically as Arthur attempted to catch chips in his mouth. The game rapidly devolved into a contest of who could feed the other the most chips, and they ended up fighting over the last pieces.

When Gwen won, he simply watched her eyes as they twinkled with laughter, and he was helpless to resist the impulse to lean over and kiss her sweetly.

"Mmm," he licked his lips, and she giggled, sucking the salt off of her fingers.

"Shall we?" He stood up, offering a hand to help her up.

"What about dessert?"

"Plenty of time for that later," he winked. "Let's go for a walk." He realized he'd been assuming they'd return to his flat. He hadn't considered where she might be staying.

But before he could think to ask, she grinned and stood up to join him, and the sheer warmth of her expression drove all the questions from his mind as he realized all he really wanted to do was kiss her again.

* * *

"I thought I saw you once," he said suddenly, and Gwen was left slightly dizzied by the rapid change of topic. They had just been laughing about how they used to conspire to steal Uther's cufflinks before one of his important meetings.

Arthur was staring down at his feet, uncharacteristically bashful. "On the bus. Just a glimpse, really, but I wondered where you were. I think sometimes I imagined you. Or what I thought you might be like, and there you were. Just a flash."

Gwen placed her hand over his, resting between them on the concrete ledge.

"Why didn't you look for me?"

He looked up at her, searching her face. "Why didn't you look for _me?_"

She shook her head. She didn't have an answer for that. At least not one that he'd accept.

"I… suppose I thought you'd moved on with your life, probably forgotten about me and made new friends."

He stared intently at her, and Gwen thought he was trying to work something out.

"I was devastated when you left. You didn't…" he trailed off, looking away suddenly.

She squeezed his hand and he turned back to her.

"I didn't say goodbye," she finished for him. "I was just a kid, Arthur. There was a lot going on, and I didn't know how to deal with it. I _couldn't_ say goodbye, because that would mean the life I knew was truly over."

"I know," he said quietly. "And I know it's selfish of me to have been angry with you for it. But I still wondered about you. You were always in the back of my mind, even as I got older and met new friends and dated girls and… I always wondered."

"I thought about you too, Arthur. I wouldn't be here now otherwise."

"What made you decide to come find me, anyway?"

"I heard someone in town mention your name, and I couldn't believe it. I mean, yes I had thought about you, but I never thought I'd run into you. I just wanted to see you, really. I wasn't even sure if I was going to try to talk to you or not—"

"I'm glad you did," he interjected, pulling their joined hands onto his lap as a small smile bloomed on his face.

"Me, too," was all she could say, grinning back at him. She was still dazzled by how perfectly he had matured, the awkward little boy she knew. She couldn't tear her eyes from his face, intent on absorbing every detail she'd missed – the strong line of his jaw, the long sweep of blonde lashes, the curve of his lips.

"What are the chances?" she blurted as the thought occurred to her suddenly. "That you and I would—that we would end up…you know," she struggled to identify what was happening between them. She didn't know yet, honestly.

"Fucking?" Arthur suggested crassly, raising his eyebrows.

"You know what I mean!" She shoved him, barely managing to make him sway where he sat. God, she was stronger when she was just a girl! Or maybe he was just weaker then, she amended as her body automatically recoiled against the hard muscle of his arm. "Anyway, can you imagine telling us, back then, that we would be like this?"

He wrinkled his nose, and Gwen thought that was exactly the reaction that his childhood self would have had. She laughed as she recalled that boy, and how Arthur really hadn't changed that much.

"Yeah, I suppose you were too invested in the idea of cooties at that point."

He laughed, shrugging slightly. "I don't know."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean…I don't know, I think I was a little aware of you in that way…Not, not in _that_ way, obviously," he qualified quickly as his eyes indicated her womanly curves, resting briefly on her full breasts and the sweet spot he'd discovered between her legs.

Gwen felt herself growing warm at the suggestion of his awareness of her, but she tried to shrug it off, laughing softly. "Are you saying…you had a _crush_ on me, Arthur Pendragon?"

He kicked his feet distractedly against the cement ledge beneath them. _God_, he was such a boy. "No…I didn't say…I just..." he petered out lamely.

Gwen was forced to re-examine her whole childhood with this boy, who had apparently harbored some deeper fondness for her way longer than she had imagined.

"Since when?" she prodded, now desperately curious.

He mumbled something, and she scooted to bump herself against his side, this time with a little more force. "What was that?"

He gave her a sardonic look, raising his eyebrows in resignation. "Since about the day after you first interrupted our practice. That is, before you bullied your way onto the team."

She beamed to herself, disbelieving that Arthur had carried a torch for her for that long.

"What was it, then? You liked being shoved around by a girl?"

He scoffed now. "Gwen, you were the best player on the team, and you weren't even _on_ the team!"

"You liked me because I kicked your arse?"

"It was either that or hate you for damaging my fragile 7-year-old ego."

She laughed loudly now, re-evaluating everything she knew about Arthur with this new information in mind. It was a little ridiculous, that after they'd reconnected so seamlessly and explored each other so _thoroughly_, they could still be embarrassed to discuss their feelings.

Briefly, she considered asking him if he _like liked_ her, just for sport._  
_

But now he was pretending to pout.

She scooted from her perch next to him, moving to stand between his dangling legs. It didn't quite work, as she was already considerably shorter than him and he was sitting a good four feet off the ground.

She placed a hand on each of his knees, smoothing them up his thighs until she met his hips. It was probably the look on her face that compelled him to lean forward so that she could reach him better.

"_You_, Arthur Pendragon, are very much worth the wait." She soothed his bruised ego, taking his face in her hands to kiss him ardently, to make up for the pain she'd inflicted on his poor little boy's heart.

He was won almost immediately, pushing himself off the ledge to reach her level and then promptly pulling her against him to deepen the kiss.

His arms circled her very grown up waist, and her hands rested on his broad shoulders, and there was nothing childish about the way they clung to each other.

* * *

**A/N:** Thanks for your support! And for bullying me, quite sweetly, to expand this story. I'm actually having a lot of fun writing it.


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